


In the Blink of an Eye

by Voido



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Art, Art Modeling, Fluff, He tries tho, Kinkmeme, M/M, and actually spend money on food, he can also be considerate, ryuji is clueless, slightly awkward first kiss, yusuke is sly and hides it well, yusuke needs to get his shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: [For dreamwidth kinkmeme - full description in the notes!Once Ryuji realizes he's attracted to Yusuke, he decides he must impress the heckie heck out of his friend with a wealth of artistic knowledge. Except Ryuji has absolutely no idea what he's actually talking about. And Yusuke knows that Ryuji doesn't have a clue, but he's rolling with it because the attraction is mutual.]Ryuji doesn't agree to model for Yusuke because he's in any way interested in art. But that doesn't make it any less of a fulfilling day for both of them.





	In the Blink of an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> _Once Ryuji realizes he's attracted to Yusuke, he decides he must impress the heckie heck out of his friend with a wealth of artistic knowledge. Except Ryuji has absolutely no idea what he's actually talking about._
> 
>  
> 
> _And Yusuke knows that Ryuji doesn't have a clue, but he's rolling with it because the attraction is mutual._
> 
>  
> 
> _+Ryuji doesn't go through a "gay panic" phase. Either he's aware that he's attracted to guys prior to the fic, or if Yusuke is his first he considers Yusuke's gender to be a nonissue._  
>  +Ryuji goes to his gay bro Akira for advice. Akira could be dating whoever (I'm always partial to Akira with Akechi), and Akira very strongly discourages Ryuji from pretending to be art savvy. It doesn't work.  
> +Yusuke gently correcting Ryuji on his misinformation. "Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel between fighting crime as a ninja." "Ryuji, Michelangelo wasn't a crime-fighting turtle, he was just an angry gay man."
> 
>  
> 
> OR: THE GODDAMN TIME I REALIZED I ACTUALLY WANT TO WRITE THIS SHIP REAL BAD.  
> I'm not sure how content I am with this, but it went very smoothly, and it was a lot of fun to write! :)

After finally having come to terms with the attic Akira lived in being the coldest place in Tokyo without competition, Ryuji had made the fatal mistake of agreeing to Yusuke's plea to model for his newest painting. He was still surprised by how easily the words _“Yeah, sure, dude!”_ had left his lips, and the payback was feeling like someone had thrown him into a fridge right after entering the dorms.

“Ugh, man, don't tell me you even spent your bill-money on art supplies.”

“That would be impossible, as the housing bills are being covered by my scholarship without me ever receiving that money.”

 _Wise decision_ , Ryuji couldn't stop himself from thinking, because Yusuke hadn't even tried to pretend that he wouldn't spend the money like that if in any way possible. Something about his self-neglect made Ryuji mad, but at the same time, it was incredibly endearing. Still, he was freezing, and he had a hard time understanding why that would need to be the case, because Yusuke was quite visibly shivering as well, yet refusing to turn on the heater.

“Look, I agreed to model, not to freeze my goddamn balls off, pretty-boy.”

A soft, deep chuckle, an almost mocking tone to the explanation following right after.

“Letting the cool air engulf me is but a way to set the corresponding mood for the respective painting. The decision to not warm this room up was a deliberate one I shall hope you will be able to bear for it is _your_ turn to be pretty-boy and occupy the correct posture.”

Needless to say, Ryuji had lost focus half-way into the explanation, leaving him with little choice but to nod and position himself in the way they had previously discussed – or, well, Yusuke had ordered it, and Ryuji, being a dense idiot trying to fight the goosebumps that the thorough appreciation of his body shape had caused him, hadn't done much but nod and oblige.

The request was simple enough; he had to sit on the floor next to the bed, one leg bent and the other stretched out, facing the window to his upper-left and pretending to look – what was it? _Longing._ He'd never been a very good actor, but Yusuke asking to draw someone was something like a divine-sent experience. Not that he would never as k again – but if Ryuji had refused or even just delayed the idea, who knew if he'd gotten the chance again soon – Yusuke could be _very_ moody when it came to his inspiration. Although Ryuji'd be lying if he said he were here for the modeling.

Naturally, he wasn't good at being still either, and it was a relief when Yusuke started talking, asking him casual questions that _probably_ helped his weird artistic powers in some way, but since Ryuji knew he wouldn't be able to understand that, he didn't even waste the time to ask, instead just answering as truthfully as he could. It was fine, it was _fun_ even, if he stopped thinking about how dumb his face surely looked, and how awkward it was to willingly not look at the person he was talking to, because something around the lines of _“Still! Your movement makes it impossible for me to capture your perfect jawline!”_

They took a break after a good thirty minutes, and something in Ryuji's neck popped when he stretched himself. Who would've thought passively modeling for a drawing could be so exhausting? He watched Yusuke frown at his work so far, as if he were trying to spot and undo a fatal error he'd made, and if he weren't so self-conscious about any drawing featuring himself, Ryuji would probably walk over and pretend to be of any kind of help.

Instead, he fished his phone out of his pocket, staring at the messages he'd received from Akira – the only one, or so Ryuji hoped, well aware of the true intention behind his generosity to come and help with a drawing today. There was no reason to tell anyone but Akira, but telling him had been obligatory to, as he'd put it afterwards, _share some gay knowledge._ Ryuji had punched him for it, then laughed, then punched him again. But as usual, he hadn't been able to argue.

 

_-Don't rush anything._

_-Then again, it's Yusuke. He won't get it otherwise._

_-Just whatever you do, don't talk about art._

_~Dude, talking about art! Fuckin' good idea, he'll love it._

_-Ryuji, you don't have the first idea about art._

_~It's_ Yusuke _, like ya said. It'll be fine._

_-Don't say I didn't warn you._

 

“If it is alright with you, I'd like to continue. There's an error in your facial structure I need to correct immediately.”

“Ya soundin' more like a surgeon than an artist right now, dude.”

“That is rather unrealistic, for we both know I'm quite obviously talking about the drawing.”

Not up to play-argue with someone so incredibly serious, Ryuji returned to his previous posture, slightly regretting the choice to not check on the progress so far – then he'd at least been able to tell a bit about their current status, and if he'd have to call his mom to make sure she wouldn't worry about him.

After a good while, he noticed Yusuke hadn't picked up his questioning again, and it made Ryuji tense up slightly. Something was off when he couldn't either talk or at least zone out to the ridiculously artistic way his friend spoke, and it made him feel like time was standing still. That itself would be a good thing, but not if he had to force himself to look away from the dreamy look plastered on Yusuke's face, or the way his eyes softly closed whenever he apparently found the ideal outcome for a certain part of the drawing.

And because time running so slowly made Ryuji nervous – and nervousness made it hard for him to sit still – he said the first thing that came to his mind about art.

“Dude, don't you think it's fuckin' amazing Michelangelo painted the, ugh, Sistine Chapel between fightin' crime as a freakin' ninja?”

He was incredibly proud to even just remember the term Sistine Chapel – he'd read it while somehow trying to get knowledgeable about art at least enough to keep up a conversation; to no avail, quite obviously, and it was only due to his foot shifting slightly on the floor and the sound it caused that he wasn't quite sure if he heard Yusuke snort or if it was his imagination.

Considering the explanation he got, it was definitely the former.

“Ryuji, Michelangelo was not a crime-fighting turtle. He was but a very angry gay man.”

At least he sounded amused, which made Ryuji believe his statement hadn't been an entire fuck-up. Seriously, though, it wasn't his damn fault at all that the creator of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had named one of the main characters after some famous artist…right? Anyone could have made that misconception.

“If it is alright with you, I would like to ask your opinion on something.”

“Sure, dude.”

But there was no further explanation, and it took Ryuji a full two – very long, very annoying – minutes to turn his head and face Yusuke, the latter's eyebrow raised expectantly but patiently, as if it was totally understandable to him why Ryuji had retained his position for so long before actually moving. Probably something about _feeling_ _the mood_ _so much._

He did eventually get up though to walk over. Yusuke moved back enough with his chair to let Ryuji get a good look first, then pointed on a specific point on his drawn right leg, his knee to be precise, and explained.

“I have noticed your right patella to be slightly moved to the side.”

“Yeah, man. T'was outta-joint 'cause o' the brute force of that bastard breaking my femur, y'know. I'm surprised you noticed through the freakin' pants' fabric, though.”

“I see.”

There was something pained in Yusuke's voice, and if Ryuji squinted, he could see his friend's mien turn dark, as if he were remembering something horrible – thinking about it, he probably was. They'd all had their fair share of shitty adults abusing them in one way or the other, after all.

“If I may say so, I find myself unable to not put an at least moderate focus on this feature of yours. Since it is far from a positive incident for you to remember, though, I deem it necessary to make sure to have your consent in capturing something so incredibly private, for I shall present the finished piece at the next exhibition I'm taking part in.”

“P-present? To the fuckin' public, dude?”

“That is what exhibitions are indeed usually for, Ryuji.”

Needless to explain, they had _never_ talked about this. What a typical Yusuke-thing to not ask consent to publish a drawing of Ryuji, but only to capture his injury on it. If it didn't make him blush so hard, he'd probably find it laughable.

“I, ugh, I mean, sure, do whatever you need, but- Damn, this is kinda weird? Shouldn't you draw somethin' more, y'know…presentable than me for somethin' so important? Dunno, dude. Ann's beauty, or one'f Akira's smug smirks over his coffee? Just sayin' I-”

“Allow me to disturb your rambling. I take pride in the inspiration I choose, and I dare to say it was never a mistake whenever I chose to draw you.”

_Holy_

_Shit._

Coming from Yusuke, that wasn't anything to be flattered about, right? He'd simply stated the fact that Ryuji made a good model, and that could mean _anything_ , couldn't it? He'd seen Yusuke draw street-cats rummaging through stinky dumpsters in an alley, and that wasn't exactly anything complimenting. _Inspiration_ was a pretty damn bendable definition, right? Really, there was no reason for Ryuji to blush and stammer, but of- _fuckin'-_ course he did. Because why wouldn't he?

“I, uhm, thanks? I-I mean, I'm sure there's somethin' about my colorful shirts goin' well with my bright hair, right? C-color theory and shit, fascinatin' as fuck, amirite-”

“Precisely.”

There was a calm, embracing smile on Yusuke's face, and he had already returned to work on his capture of Ryuji's knee showing through the fabric, apparently having considered _not_ displaying it at all if Ryuji really minded. Which was surprisingly thoughtful for someone like Yusuke, who usually saw art as the most innocent thing in the world, incapable of causing any form of harm.

Since he hadn't ordered Ryuji to get back in position, he didn't, instead looking over his friend's shoulder, watching his thin, talented fingers float over the canvas like an angel in flight. He could almost _feel_ the passion sweeping through the room, and suddenly, he felt like even if they were here all night, he wouldn't mind. Even if he had to stand here unmoving all night to capture Yusuke's passion, he wouldn't mind. Hell, even if he passed out in this exact position, it'd be alright. Anything to feel the fiery admiration of art that reminded him so _much_ of his feelings when it came to running. Something about it, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, was weirdly inspiring. Suddenly, it was as if he were to go back to the track team, he'd show them he was still the fastest even if he'd die of the pain and exhaustion right afterwards. He felt empowered, encouraged even, and realized it was a feeling he hoped he'd never have to let go of ever again.

“What a splendid motif. How about another break? Coffee sounds like a lovely reward for today's hard work so far.”

“Dude, you're worse than Akira. Ya can't live of coffee 'n art, y'know? Let's go grab a beef bowl.”

“Very well.”

\----- -----

They didn't make it as far, instead getting some instant-noodles and snack at a small supermarket close to the dorms – Ryuji insisting that he _really_ didn't mind paying, and he didn't, especially when Yusuke started rambling about this allowing him to buy a new brush or two.

While Ryuji was very okay with eating the stuff dry any other day, he insisted on heading back and boiling some water to make them an at least semi-proper meal. Yusuke _really_ needed to eat, and even if this wasn't the most ideal food, either, it was better than munching the noodles like some crackers.

When they had returned, both now sitting on the floor where Ryuji had been before, leaning on the bed-frame and waiting for their food to be ready, Yusuke had decided to show off some sketches – as he called them, for to Ryuji they still somehow looked like masterpieces already – he'd created in the past weeks. There was one of Ryuji and Akira running laps on the beach where they'd all been together, their expressions hardly visible because of the distance. And because Ryuji _really_ didn't have the first clue about art, the term _vanishing point_ popped up in his mind and he couldn't keep himself from mumbling it. Honestly, if Yusuke hadn't reacted, he'd probably not even had noticed himself speaking.

“ _Oh?_ I'm taking it you're growing an increasing interest in the beauty of art?”

Was this…a good thing? Had he actually said something right for once? Encouraging, to say the least, and he wouldn't be simple-minded-as-fuck Ryuji Sakamoto if he didn't make the dumb decision to continue on instead of shutting up when it was best for him.

“Y-yeah, totally. I mean, there's hardly anything like, uh, immortalizing a good still life, right?”

Throwing out fancy words without sounding like an entire idiot – check. It couldn't have been too wrong, either, since Yusuke simply nodded, stirring his noodles with one hand and turning the page of his folder on the floor with the other. Next up was a portrait of Ann smiling cutely, her hair just as fluffy as in reality, her head slightly turned to the side.

“You don't draw people from the front much, huh? You like angles or something?”

“It is a fairly challenging task to maintain the physical symmetry of the front view, and one I try to avoid if in any way possible.”

Instead of pretending he understood that, Ryuji nodded. If Yusuke said it was hard to draw something in a specific kind of angle, then it most likely was, considering his obsession to produce, capture and _understand_ art 24/7. It reminded Ryuji of the one time Yusuke had actually considered preferring brush maintenance over katana maintenance, blissfully uncaring about the fact that neglecting the latter could get them all _killed_.

They stopped going through the drawings to eat, Ryuji shoving the folder a bit away from himself, because if there was one thing he knew about instant noodles, it was that you never knew when you accidentally spilled something. It was an alright silence, disrupted only by the sound of swallowing and the clock on the wall ticking away. It made Ryuji feel comfortable, almost like chilling in Akira's attic, or at home with his mom. He couldn't help but chuckle at it, considering how misplaced he felt in a place like this.

When they'd finished, Yusuke got up and nodded to himself, lost in his thoughts until Ryuji hummed at him so he would explain himself.

“I have made the decision to postpone any further work on the drawing, if that is alright with you. Instead, how about we share some of our artistic experiences? I am sure we could learn a lot from each other.”

“Uh, sure. Sounds good, I guess?”

_Oh fuck._

There was no damn way he'd actually made it seem like he knew _anything_ about art – let alone actively cared about creating it on his own. Right? Why did Akira always have to end up being right about telling him not to do something? And why the hell did Ryuji always do it either way, ignoring any possible problems it resulted in until they actually came crushing down?

They cleaned up and returned, this time settling down on the bed; him insisting that if he didn't get a thicker blanket very soon, he'd start a fire, to which Yusuke's eyes widened and he got up to look for one. It was a joke, of course, but since he did eventually return with a huge blanket they could wrap around the both of them, Ryuji didn't really feel like taking it back. Not like he'd ever harm his friend's most precious belongings.

It was a decent chunk of time and lots of weird rambling later that Ryuji cleared his throat, noticing for the first time how close to each other they had shifted, and turning his head slightly, scratching his head and mumbling something like the opening of an apology.

“So, uh, dude, this is great and all, but there's this- eh, this small thing I didn't tell ya, and, like- hah, I mean, how do I-”

“Are you speaking of the fact that you have no idea about art whatsoever?”

If nothing in the world ever shut Ryuji up, that sure as hell had. Sometimes – and this was one of them – he made the idiotic mistake to misinterpret Yusuke's weirdness as stupidity, and the payback was a faint red creeping up his chest and neck up to his face.

“Wh-whaddya, man, I mean- 's not like…”

Then he gave up.

“Why'd you even keep up with it, if you knew.”

Wasn't it something like an offense to pretend you knew stuff about art when you actually didn't? Wasn't it like trying to pretend you understood the suffering an artist had to go through in the process, even though it was all but some lines on a piece of paper for you? If people talked about track running that way, as if they understood how to breathe right, how to run right, how to drink right, when clearly they had no clue, Ryuji knew it'd at least annoy him, if not thoroughly piss him off. But it wouldn't be Yusuke if he didn't have a weird explanation for it, even though it was one that, for once, Ryuji could entirely get behind – after all, it went very well with his own reason for deciding to model today, even though it collided with his inability to act or sit still.

“I took it as a fair chance to allow myself to spend some more of this valuable time with you. I will not deny my surprise that you did in fact know some terms that made me believe your interested approaches to be real.”

“Yeah, I…looked some shit up, I guess?”

“Are you implying you _do_ feel a casual interest whatsoever?”

And he almost answered, yet again misreading the smug yet genuine smile on Yusuke's face, if it weren't for how _hell-fuckin'_ close their faces were now, and the fact that he realized that Yusuke _understood_.

_Holy fuckin'- Shi- He knew all this goddamn time- I'm never going to breathe again holy shit holy sh-_

“I would have to lie if I pretended for said interest to not be mutual, however.”

It was then that Ryuji decided that he'd embarrassed himself enough for a good life-time or two, the heat raising up to his cheeks as well, and that it was probably as good of a moment as he'd ever get to close the distance between them and initiate a way too enthusiastic kiss, their teeth colliding slightly. If that wasn't enough to ensure him he could die happily, then the fact that the kiss was _returned_ surely was.

Every bit of tension he had hardly noticed piling up inside him all day suddenly fell off of him, washed away by how affectionate, _passionate_ Yusuke was about it. Careful, as if anything more than the gentlest movement could break either of them like a porcelain vase; it clashed with Ryuji's attitude, as it always did. Slow, careful, confident meeting hectic, timid, nervous. But that wasn't what had him catch his breath sharply when they parted, nor was the beautiful, _perfect_ sight of closed eyes and slightly raised corners of Yusuke's lips.

“This has indeed been a day full of educational surprises, wouldn't you agree?”

Maybe making a fool out of himself had eventually paid off after all. Maybe he could face Akira without feeling like an entire idiot for not listening to his well-meant advice. And maybe, just maybe, it was all wonderful enough to push his luck just a bit further.

“You in for learnin' some more stuff, then?”


End file.
